


the start

by blueacorn



Series: Viewfinder [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 01:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12159243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueacorn/pseuds/blueacorn
Summary: This is how they begin.





	the start

He discovers you as a picture. In snapshots, in frames. In silhouettes, in flashes. He studies you through the only way he knows how to see the world, in lines soft and bold, in a gaze far too intimate for its distance. He learns you in pieces, in the brushes of warmth, in deep laughter. 

He takes his time, and loves you every step of the way.

It’s your hands that first capture his attention; fingertips pressed lightly against sharp, clear glass, a thumb rubbing absently against the blank page of a notebook. They’re good hands, large and steady, pen held secure in a dependable grip.

It’s that gentle, quiet strength that draws him in. Raw, unpractised. Free of the hesitation that plagues most of his subject’s imitations. His own hands lift, settling on the camera slung around his neck, and he’s giving in, the camera shutter clicking, signalling the birth of the worst photo he’s ever taken. 

He feels a burn in his cheeks, turning away from those hands, hoping he hadn’t been spotted. Quick steps carry him away from the shop that he later remembers only impressions of; spotless glass lining sun warmed walls, with you as the centerpiece. 

The photo turns out even worse than he expects, the glare of light reflecting off glass walls ruining an already blurred shot. 

He’s almost afraid someone would somehow _know_ and half expects a call from that big agency, dropping him from the shoot with Iwaizumi and ruining his career. 

All he can think of is how he _shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have done it; it was creepy and invasive and a terrible shot-_

Yet, his eyes can’t stop drifting to the picture, to how he knows it should’ve looked, to how he knows the curl of your fingers, the curve of your palm. 

He returns the next day, gaze locked on familiar hands in familiar glass walls.

It’s your lips that pull him in further, twitching into a smile as you look up at the ring of the bell, heralding his arrival. 

“Welcome,” you say, inexplicable warmth lacing your greeting, “Can I help you?”

He looks around, realising for the first time where exactly he’s standing, cakes and sweets of varying sizes arranged painstakingly in spotless display cases lining the sunlit walls. You stand in the middle of this, the centerpiece, the _final_ piece.

He steps further in, flicking lightly at the lock of hair flopping lazily over his eye and grins, slow and wicked.

“Help me,” he declares, advancing, “there’s something wrong with my eyes.”

Your own dark, kind eyes widen in concern, lips parting in surprise.

“What’s wrong-”

“I can’t take them off you.”

You blink. Once, twice, as he stops before you, and as he sees your worry melt into irritation, your frown tighten into a scowl, everything slides into place. The picture is whole, and clear, and he, breathless, thinks, _oh. This. This is it._

 

**Author's Note:**

> and yes this was the concept i started out with, the image that wouldn't leave my mind that started the photographer bakery thing it's just a little drabble but i thought it'd be nice to share; i hope yall enjoy!!


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